Take That to the Prophet
by Cerise Murmur
Summary: Will Rita Skeeter get more than she bargained for when she interviews Luna Lovegood about her alleged affair with Harry Potter? We'll see. Rita/Luna, femmeslash, rated M.


**Ahaha, I know. Wow, this was seriously fun to write. I always love to write about characters I've never written about before. :D So, enjoy this odd odd pairing. I lurveeee reviews! **

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"Beautiful, isn't it?" Luna's airy voice floated lightly over to the uptight reporter, carried by the warm breeze that was blowing. They were standing by the lake at Hogwarts, taking in the exquisite scene of the bright afternoon sun bouncing its rays off of the cool blue water.

"Mm, yes" Rita Skeeter answered, her eyed turned towards her bag. She was already rummaging through her bright green purse for her quick quotes quill.

Luna turned to the older woman, cocking her head slightly to the side at the sight of the paper floating lazily in the air, the quill poised over it. "What's that?" she asked, innocent curiosity spread across her face.

"Quick quotes quill" Rita answered, watching with a frown as the quill took down the last part of the useless conversation.

"Stall" she muttered at it, the green quill stilling.

"Shall we go somewhere more…private?" Rita asked, beckoning to the blonde with her index finger. She liked to be able to look at the people she was interviewing…she liked to get under their skin…make them sweat, they told the truth better that way.

"Oh, yes, of course" Luna answered, skipping lightly next to Rita, letting the older woman lead them into a boathouse by the side of the lake.

Luna's nose crinkled in distaste as soon as they stepped into the cramped space. "But…it's such a nice day…why don't we-" Luna's protest was cut short.

"No" the reporter snapped, "it's quieter in here". Rita was practically touching the girl, Luna's heart rate picked up slightly at the invasion of personal space.

"Now" Rita started, looking around for someplace to sit, after about 30 seconds she gave up, declaring it a lost cause.

"Would you care to explain the relationship between you…and Harry?" Rita looked at her expectantly, the quill leaning towards her, ready to race to write her reply.

"Oh, um, we're just friends" Luna answered, looking at the ceiling, seemingly dazing off.

"Only friends? Miss. Lovegood, are you aware of why I've asked you here today?" Rita's voice was strained, the smile plastered on her face sagging slightly.

"Of course, to talk about Harry, you want to know about the Dark Lord, right?" Luna stared at Rita, not comprehending how it could be anything else.

"No, girl" Rita snapped, "About you and Mr. Potter…_romantically._"

"Oh! No, I would never" Luna sighed, finding her eyes tracing the contours of the reporters face, her lips…her eyes, so disappointed.

"I'm…sorry?" Luna added, quickly trying to backtrack.

Rita sighed and sagged against the wall, Luna felt her tongue running softly over her lips, and she found that she had taken a step closer to the woman.

Rita looked up at her, "It's…okay, I guess that the Dark Lord will _have_ to do." She straightened up, she bumped into Luna, their bodies touching slightly, Rita's breathing quickened as she stepped back slightly, only to have Luna move forward.

"So…what exactly is the story?" Rita asked, feeling her heart rate quicken.

Luna's face was inches away from Rita's, "He said…" Luna could feel Rita's hot breath on her face, "He said…" she repeated, feeling the woman stiffen, "he _saw_ him…the night…" Luna's lips ached with the restraint to not press themselves against Rita's. "Cedric…" Rita's eyes fluttered closed, her chest heaving under the bright green blazer, "died." Luna finished, allowing her body to move away slightly, leaving Rita braced against the wall, her breathing swallowed, her eyes closed.

"And…what exactly did he say…the Dark Lord looked like…?" Rita gasped, feeling Luna's thigh against her own, the girls knee dangerously close to her center.

"He said…he was hideous" Luna breathed, her lips brushing Rita's ear, the quill leaning toward them recording every gasp and struggled word.

"How…so?" Rita asked, leaning her head into Luna's, letting the younger girls hair brush her shoulder.

"Like…a monster, a baby monster, _deformed"_ on the last word Rita felt Luna's hand start to slide up her thigh, "_shriveled" _the hand inched up farther, making Rita shiver, _"incomplete…" _Luna's hand reached her waist, and she leaned her body in farther so their breasts were touching.

"So what happened next?" Rita gasped, feeling the girl start to fondle her breast through the slippery material.

"He said Wormtail came…" she pressed her hips into Rita's "and he cut off his hand…" she slipped her hand under the material of Rita's shirt, "and threw the Dark Lord into boiling water with his blood…" she flicked her thumb across Rita's nipple softly, making the older woman groan, "and then he took Harry's blood…" her breath was hot on Rita's neck, her glasses fogged.

"And then…?" Rita asked, clutching at the girls back as she bit the skin at Rita's neck tenderly.

"Then…he was born…" Luna hissed, suddenly digging her hand into Rita's center…feeling the wet heat even through her skirt. Rita moaned and arched her hips into Luna's hand.

"And…" Rita couldn't get out the words, Luna's hand was massaging her gently, using her other hand to tease the reporters breast.

"And then…they dueled…and…" Luna tensed, feeling the other woman shudder against her, "and then…Voldemort…lost"

"and…" Luna's hand was trailing down Rita's waist, nearing the zipper and the top of her skirt.

"And…?" Rita gasped, willing the girls hand to keep moving further down.

"He's back" Luna spit, shoving the reporter back into the wall with surprising force, the older woman's foot becoming entangled with a fishing net that was laying discarded on the floor.

"Let this be a note" she added, directly speaking to the quick quotes quill "nothing good comes from noisy reporters." She smiled at Rita, "it was nice talking to you" and with that she skipped silently out the boathouse, leaving Rita with her fogged glasses and her muffled story filled with moans and grunts and that wouldn't make sense to her in the morning.


End file.
